


Audition

by risotto



Series: Rockhopper Studios (Pornstar AU) [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auditioning, Bad Porn Titles, Deepthroating, Filming, I'm Sorry, M/M, Porn, bottom makoto, gay for pay, pornstar AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risotto/pseuds/risotto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seijuurou Mikoshiba decides to make the jump from straight porn to gay porn. It's all for the money.</p><p>Or so he claims.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Audition

**Author's Note:**

> Because I wanted to try writing a sex scene. Apologies in advance.
> 
>  _Update: 05/09/2015:_ Just did some tweaking here and there.

Rockhopper Studios is a strange name for a porn studio. But more than just the name itself...it's kind of a wasted opportunity. Honestly. All it takes is just a one letter change and, voila, instant giggle.

Seijuurou Mikoshiba mulls this over as he sits in one of the small company's offices. Actually, it's more homely than an office, and looks like it could have been a large bedroom at one point in time. There's a plush couch against one of the walls; it's black leather and shiny and smells a little like bleach. Studio set or not, at least they like to keep things clean around here. He silently hopes he'd be hired on to appreciate that.

Sitting across from him is the one who can make that decision for him: the owner of the company, Nagisa Hazuki. 

Nagisa's a unique case. Most people would look at him and consider him just another twinky hotshot with substantial luck and good connections, but Seijuurou's heard stories and, really, the proof is in the pudding: going from a solo-act on an amateur website to popular POV actor to owner and primary director of a small but insanely successful studio and distributor is no small feat. To do it in the span of just three years and all just under the age of twenty-five is nothing short of amazing. Rockhopper Studios is currently the most profitable in the porn industry, partly due to the turnaround in contrast with its relatively small amount of contracted actors and actresses. 

"It's hard to explain but he's very good—he has a knack for picking the right people and making the right movies," Nitori had said when the subject of Seijuurou jumping ship to another studio came up. A knack isn't a selling point but enough revenue to buy a custom pair of Earnest Sewn jeans and not care about strawberry ice cream dripping onto them is.

Forever at Nagisa's side is Rei Ryuugazaki, his assistant and primary cameraman. Notoriously obsessed with 'beauty' and meticulous with everything from lighting to music and even positions, he edits most of the movies himself and operates the camera like some kind of Oscar-winning cinematographer. Why he's doing porn is anyone's guess though Seijuurou bets it has something to do with Nagisa himself. There's a sense of familiarity and closeness between them that none can deny. Theirs is an unconventional partnership and they make it work to their advantage.

“Do you need anything? Tonic water or something else to drink?" Nagisa opens Seijuurou's folder and begins perusing through the papers within. "Some blow?"

What, and not get an erection the day of his audition? A porn star who can't get it up. What kind of sense does that make? Seijuurou balks. "No way," he shakes his hands in surrender in front of him, "I don't do that shit."

"Good!" Nagisa chirps, expression cheerful and radiant and, most importantly, unoffended. "I was just testing you! We have a strict zero tolerance policy on that stuff here, anyway."

Good to know. Seijuurou smiles and settles his back more comfortably against the couch. 

"I'm a huge fan of your work, Sei-chan," Nagisa says. 

Seijuurou's not about to question the diminutive nickname, especially not while his potential future boss is looking closely at some of his headshots and his filmography list. "Thank you," he hums.

"My personal favorite is _21 Hump Street_. That interrogation scene is just perfect." 

Seijuurou swells with pride. It _is_ perfect. 

"Rei-chan prefers _Lawrence of Her Labia_ , but he's a stickler for the classics, I guess. We both agree that _Butt Pirates of the Caribbean_ was a career low, though. Sorry."

“Don't be,” Seijuurou says.

Because Seijuurou actually agrees with him on that. Everything about that monstrosity sucked. Except, ironically, his costar, who suddenly discovered a new-found love and devotion to Christ the day before the shoot. Not that there was anything wrong with that, only her abrupt departure left them all scrambling to find a replacement, and Seijuurou wound up shooed into a gangbang scene as Pirate Number Eleven aboard a poorly constructed ship set that reeked of self-tanner and cheap rum. Even worse? Sand got everywhere. He spent days getting grains out the crack of his ass. 

The fallout didn't end there. The movie was bad—even by porn standards. The budget was overblown, the profits abysmal, the reviews even worse. The critics were brutal, with one site even proclaiming, "I'd call it the _Gigli_ of Porn, except that was already made before this and it's not even half as bad as this piece of shit."

Fuck that guy. Even if he was right when he said it was the beginning of the end for Samezuka Entertainment.

Seijuurou spent a few weeks after the film's release dodging phone calls and rejecting podcast interviews out of shame. 

Not long after that, Samezuka Entertainment went belly-up. Many attributed it to the untimely decision of refusing to produce the experimental film _Going Down Under_. The film went indie and became an enormous success, broke several records, won awards, and helped its star, the then-unknown Rin Matsuoka, become a household name. The studio that refused the film become the laughing stock of the porn industry and revenue tanked.

Rin had offered him a role in it. Seijuurou, citing company loyalty and his experience with that damn Pirates movie, politely declined. To date, it's the worst decision of his career.

It's also humbling, a stark reminder of his career's own mortality in a business that's notorious for chewing people up and spitting them out, no matter how many facials they gave (or took) or how many phallic trophies they have on their shelf in the family den.

The interview goes smoothly after that until Nagisa tilts his head inquisitively and looks between Seijuurou and the forms in his hand. "Have you ever been with another man, Sei-chan?" Nagisa asks, brow raised.

Aside from some minor experimentation in high school and crossing swords on a few threesome scenes, he can't very well say yes, he has, and no he hasn't... 

"Not exactly," he utters, feeling a strange sense of nervousness creep up his neck. It's strange because he shouldn't be nervous. It's not like Nagisa doesn't know he's only ever done straight porn. Hell, it's not like Nagisa doesn't know who he is, period. One quick Google search will tell him everything. He's Seijuurou Mikoshiba—not some apple-cheeked college dropout looking to make some money with his dick but not knowing how to work it.

Nagisa's expression doesn't shift, which doesn't calm Seijuurou's nerves. "I don't want it to be a problem but that's kind of our specialty, you know? I mean, we also do bi and straight scenes once in a while, but..."

"I know," Seijuurou says, clearing his throat and straightening his back. "Nitori told me."

"Okay, so you've never done any official guy-guy scenes and you're looking to work for Rockhopper, which does mostly gay porn." Nagisa looks like he's fighting off a laugh and Seijuurou just feels like the biggest tool alive. "Is it the money? O~r is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

Oh, god, not only is he teasing him, he's acting like he's seeing right through him. It's plainly obvious he's doing this for the money and only for the money. There's a reason they call it Gay for Pay: one scene could earn him more than he'd make for an entire movie doing straight porn. Everyone knows guys don't get far there—the real stars are the girls. 

Unless you're Peter North, Ron Jeremy, or John Holmes, may he rest in peace.

"Samezuka's not going anywhere," Seijuurou says, diplomatically, "and neither will I if I stayed there, so..."

Nagisa snorts a laugh. "I'm just teasing you, Sei-chan."

Of course he is. 

Nagisa goes over the rest of the paperwork and Seijuurou's glad he's not going over every single item on that questionnaire. Some of those were a touch on the excessive side. He understands the need to be thorough in this business, but still: this isn't exactly a job interview for a position in the accounts department of an advertising firm. It's for porn. What, is he going to ask for a list of references next?

"Okay, then. Looks like your seven-day med-check's good and clear," with a satisfied nod, Nagisa sets the papers aside and claps his hands once, folding them innocently on his lap, his pink eyes narrowing. "Show me your dick."

Oh.

Not the first or even the tenth time he's ever heard those words, but how so quick and nonchalant Nagisa says it throws Seijuurou off. 

Nodding and standing, he fumbles a little with the buckle and zipper of his jeans. His confidence returns once they're down and he's just standing there in plain gray boxer-briefs. He lifts his shirt, briefly offering a teasing glimpse of his six-pack, then reaches into his underwear and pulls his dick out, unashamed that he's not yet hard—it's interview anxiety and nothing more—because he's fully aware he's bigger than average.

Nagisa's eyebrows arching high up on his forehead strokes his ego. As does Rei tilting his head to regard him as he snaps a few still shots with a digital pocket camera.

"Very nice, Sei-chan." Nagisa twirls his finger in a circle in front of him. "Turn around for me, please?" 

And Seijuurou does. Again, unashamed. Squats and lunges are a man's best friend.

"No tanlines. Nice." 

"It's natural," Seijuurou adds, a bit smug. He's rather proud of his bronze skin—a gift from his mother, may she rest in peace.

Nagisa hops up from his chair and starts fiddling with the room lights. Wisely, he's waited until Rei's gone from the room to fetch a video camera. "You don't mind, do you?"

If he had a problem with people filming him naked, then he's obviously in the wrong profession. But it's a courtesy he's already very familiar with, all to keep lawyers happy, so he can't blame him for asking even if the answer is fairly obvious. 

"It's cool," he says with a shrug.

"I know this is just an audition, but we like to record to review it later. And if it's good, sometimes we'll use splices for ads and print. You'll get compensated, regardless. How's one thousand American sound?"

Sounds fucking perfect, actually. A thousand just as part of an audition? Shit. He's more than just fine with that. 

There's a knock on the door and the blue-haired one enters again, the legs of a folded-up tripod sticking out from beneath his arm. "Tachibana-san is ready."

"Oh? Already? You work quick, Rei-chan!"

Rei utters something and quickly starts assembling the camera and readjusting the lights to his liking. When he's finished in record time, he's digging through the drawer of a nearby end table, picking out packets and small bottles (rubbers and lube, presumably) that have been sorted by color and type. His movements are efficient, not mechanical, like he's done this numerous times before but cares enough to fuss over the tiniest of details each time. 

"Shall I send for a fluffer?" he asks with the same aplomb someone would a coffee order. "I think Nitori-san is available."

Seijuurou's nostrils flare. Hell no he doesn't need one—never did need one and wasn't about to start needing one now. You don't get far in this industry if you can't get it up and keep it up on your own. Everyone knows that. "I'll be fine."

There's another soft knock at the door before it opens and in walks who Seijuurou presumes is his partner for this audition, decked out in nothing but a warm smile and a towel around his waist.

And Seijuurou is stunned because he _thought_ since it's his first time at it with a guy on camera, they'd set him up with someone far more twinky. Someone who can work as a good transition. Below the neck, this guy's everything but that. He's tall and angular with broad shoulders and cut like a fucking diamond.

Seijuurou's not scrawny himself. He's enough of a gym rat and subscribes to enough muscle magazines to recognize someone who takes good care of his body. And this is someone who evidently takes very good care of himself. No scars, no ugly tan spots, all smooth skin and firm-looking muscle. 

Nagisa isn't fucking around. 

"Mako-chan! Thanks for coming! Come in, have a seat." The blond gestures to the leather couch. "This is Seijuurou Mikoshiba. We're doing his audition today. Sei-chan, this is Makoto." 

For some reason, when Makoto carefully sits down beside him, not too close and not too far, Seijuurou's belly goes from doing a simple jump to an entire gymnastics routine.

"Hi," Makoto says, looking directly at him and smiling. Smiling like he's the only one in the room—in the world—and that's all that matters. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Hey." Seijuurou shifts around awkwardly, unsure if it's common practice to bow or shake the hand of the person you're meeting for the first time who is also the same person you're about to fuck in front of a two-man audience. His previous costars were often introduced mere minutes before the director yelled _Action!_ Or at some kind of party no one remembered the morning after. It used to be very blase. 

This? This is a whole new level of awkward.

Nagisa pauses in his adjustment of a scope onto the lens of his camera and regards them both like a father introducing his son to the neighbor's cute kid for the first time. "Have you two met before?"

"No, we haven't." Makoto's voice is strangely soothing. "But I'm very familiar with his work."

 _Very familiar_. Seijuurou winces inwardly. Makoto's probably seen sides of him that not even his doctor's privy to. Meanwhile, Seijuurou has never seen this guy before. He'd recognize those green eyes anywhere. 

Nagisa must have smelled his discomfort because he's bouncing in place and beaming proudly. "Mako-chan's one of our best! He's a switch and he's up for a ton of Heart-On and AVN awards! I think you're gonna like him!"

"Nagisa..." Makoto blushes. This green-eyed giant is actually blushing. It's cute and Seijuurou's left wondering two things: one, what the fuck is going on and two, why can he hear his heart pounding in his ears?

"Once Rei-chan and I are done setting up here, you can start, okay? So," Nagisa flicks his hand toward them and bunnies over to the other side of the room to join Rei for last minute adjustments to their makeshift set. "Get acquainted. We'll be right with you."

 _Get acquainted_ , he says. That's rich. Oh well, it's not like Seijuurou's ever suffered from any kind of social anxiety before. He's been to a ton of wrap parties and mixers, has met countless people both in and out of the industry. He's even met a few C-list celebrities and reality stars here and there. Meeting someone for the first time shouldn't be a problem.

Except Seijuurou can't make himself talk, because the inside of his mouth now feels like it's been stung by a swarm of bees. 

Makoto fidgets with the knot of his towel. It's a small comfort knowing he's a little shy too. "Um," he says, "is this your first time? Doing a gay scene, I mean..."

It's not as if he can very well lie about it. Seijuurou shrugs and tries to go for a self-deprecating grimace; he probably looks nauseated. "I should do something about the big neon 'first timer' sign pointing down on me, huh?"

When Makoto laughs, his voice sounds like ice cubes tinkling in a glass, and Seijuurou chuckles along with him, feeling most of the tension roll off his back.

"It'll be fine," Makoto murmurs once Nagisa and Rei amble back over to their little makeshift set. His hand comes onto Seijuurou's thigh, not groping, but supportive. "Just do what feels natural."

That's the problem. Seijuurou's not sure what feels natural anymore. He can't very well pretend that Makoto, with his muscles and hardness, is a girl. When he closes his eyes, his go-to image of vintage gravure model Marin fondling her own breasts and coyly giving doe-eyes to the camera doesn't shine behind his eyelids like it normally does during moments like this. No, it's all innocent green eyes and a sun-warm smile now. 

And he discovers he's fine with that.

Rei adjusting the lights yet again pulls Seijuurou out of his thoughts. The assistant reaches into his duffel for a purple Nikon Coolpix and nods toward Nagisa. "All set."

Nagisa takes his place behind the camera, one eye squinting and peering through the eyepiece. "Okay, Sei-chan, Mako-chan. Whenever you're ready! And...action!”

Then their tongues touch.

It doesn't happen quite as bluntly, though the heady rush of sensation leads Seijuurou to believe it does. There's some lingering eye contact and moving around before then; there's also some shy smiles on Makoto's behalf, as Seijuurou's tries to come off like the cool and in-control boss he usually is as he presses his mouth, light and soft, against Makoto's.

Kissing isn't what people buy or download porn for. At least, that's the general consensus on the straight side of it. There, nearly everything, even foreplay, is kind of animalistic—kissing's considered too intimate and sweet for it and some scenes even wind up on cutting room floors because there's too much _mouths touching mouths_ and not enough _mouths touching other things._

Which is a total shame, because Seijuurou loves kissing. He loves the feeling of invading someone's mouth with something other than his dick or fingers. He loves feeling someone breathing into him; he loves the warmth, the flick of something wet against his tongue. All of it.

An even bigger shame? Makoto's a great kisser. Eager and not overpowering or smothering; wary of his teeth and thorough with his tongue. If he could, Seijuurou'd kiss him all day.

But he can't. He's here auditioning for porn, not for some television drama. So he slowly pulls away from him and tries to ignore how pink and swollen Makoto's lips are, or how thick the line of saliva connecting their mouths is, and looks down.

At some point during their tongue-wrestling, Makoto's towel slipped off.

Goddamn. 

A dick like that and he's willing to bottom?

Seijuurou's not entirely sure, but he thinks Makoto might be as big as him, if not bigger. He tries not to look any more, though he can't help but feel the blunt tip of it pressing into his thigh.

Seijuurou has to remind himself there's no one standing by with a boom mike, so it's okay for him to gasp and let a curse slip out at how hard he's already become. This whole set-up is throwing him for a loop and his body's barely able to keep up with the changes. He can't tell if it's good or bad, or just all a part of some diabolical scheme to make him look like some inexperienced amateur who's way in over his head.

Before, Seijuurou had to be constantly aware of the camera and his angles and where the lights hit on his body. Today, not so much. He's only dimly reminded they're not alone after he shucks his jeans and boxers back down again and hears Rei gasp and fumble with his camera; next to him, Nagisa lets out a pleased hum and continues recording, his knees spread apart a little further than usual.

The leather of the couch groans beneath their weight when Makoto gets to all fours on it, shifting into position and doubling over Seijuurou's lap and wisely ensuring he's not hogging up the camera's shot, his back arched like a perfect bow, every bump in his spine and every line of his serratus defined by the soft overhead lights.

Seijuurou watches closely as Makoto slowly dips his head. Maintaining eye contact with him the entire time seems to add a new level of sensitivity because before he knows it, Makoto's heavy tongue is sweeping over the head of his cock and Seijuurou lets out a sharp hiss so loud, he half expects a director to yell, “cut!”

But there's nothing. Only the lewd sound of Makoto's wet tongue sliding down against his shaft. Just as Seijuurou rests his head back against the couch and settles in for what he thinks is an obligatory blowjob, Makoto shifts gears and takes him in, a lot sooner than he'd anticipated. 

Not one to let a good opportunity go to waste, he threads his hand through Makoto's hair, pulls him back enough that Makoto strains to fill his throat back up again, and lets his hand settle on the crown of his head, gently nudging him to keep working his throat, feeling him pulse in and out. 

Shit. Seijuurou can barely keep his eyes open. 

Just when he feels the tip touching the back of Makoto's throat, when Seijuurou knows he ought to pull back and let him catch his breath or something, Makoto takes him until he has _all_ of him in his mouth, nose buried in the patch of coarse curls at the base of Seijuurou's cock.

Before Seijuurou had been invited to audition today, he expected a lot of things: frank discussions about sex, having his previous history and current endeavors put under a microscope, and even cleaning himself in ways he never thought imaginable. Those sorts of things.

Being deep-throated was not one of them.

Makoto breathes out hard through his nose, pulls back about halfway, and takes Seijuurou to the hilt once more, possibly even deeper, leaving Seijuurou to wonder if this guy even has a gag reflex.

"Fuck, Makoto," he growls out, voice low and gruff and coming from the diaphragm without a hint of pretension in any of it. It's completely on accident, which means it's real, which presents a problem, because even if this is audition is faker than his last costar's breasts, Seijuurou's _supposed_ to be acting like this is old hat to him.

At hearing his name, Makoto whimpers and wiggles his hips, drawing Seijuurou's attention to his ass, to the firmness of it. An idea fires off in Seijuurou's brain and he experimentally snakes his hand over the smooth skin there and rubs his fingers lightly against Makoto's asshole. It's already slick with lube. Rei was thorough with his prep work.

Makoto whimpers again, louder this time, lips withdrawing from Seijuurou with a wet pop just as the redhead pushes his finger inside.

In the past, he's done this more out of curiosity than anything else and was often greeted with an annoyed look from the actresses he'd been working with. On one occasion, one girl nearly stormed off set and Seijuurou was given a firm talking to by the director because even if the fine print of her contract permitted anal sex, spontaneous anal fingering was not allowed.

But things are different now. Way different. 

And as he slips in another finger without complaint and hears Makoto let out the most obscene moan he's heard in years, Seijuurou curses himself for not having made the switch sooner.

Makoto isn't as demure as his personality might suggest. Not only does he buck back into Seijuurou's insistent touch, he damn near swallows his cock again, head bobbing up and down on him like a man starved. With everything's that going on, it isn't long before Seijuurou feels that sweet rush of pleasure coursing through his body. Any minute now, and he'll be coming in spurts.

Somehow, he keeps his wits about him and nudges Makoto to stop his mind-numbing ministrations. Things move seamlessly to the next, most obvious course of action. Hips are pushed up here, thighs are spread there, and before long, Makoto's face is against the leather cushions of the couch, his ass in the air, with Seijuurou kneeling behind him.

Rei is prompt and ever on-task, quietly handing Seijuurou a condom that he easily and quickly rolls on, thanks to years of experience. 

Makoto's body rocks backward and Seijuurou soon discovers though this part shouldn't be very different from what he's already done in the past, there are some nuances he's unfamiliar with. Never has he found himself so enthralled by the sharp ridges and fluid crawl of back muscles that aren't his own. And never before has he buried himself in something so _tight_.

Fingering him should have clued him in on how tight he'd be. Not the tightest—that honor went to his first, back in his second year of high school—but _damn_ is he close. 

Once he's fully enveloped within him, he stops as if to allow Makoto to adjust to his girth but it's really for him to gain his bearings and to keep from unraveling. Seijuurou knows he should straighten out, pretend Rei's soft lights are studio fluorescent, the kind that accentuate his features and exaggerate the strong line of his back, and just fuck Makoto until Nagisa caves in and hires him on the spot.

Fingers splayed over and digging deep into the flesh of Makoto's hips and ass, Seijuurou slowly moves back, almost withdrawing, before allowing his body to rock forward again. It doesn't take long for Makoto to buck back. Soon, their bodies create an idyllic rhythm: Seijuurou thrusts, Makoto gently pushes backwards into him; a growl rumbles in Seijuurou's chest, a breathy moan parts Makoto's lips; Seijuurou bends to nip at the apex of Makoto's spine, Makoto cranes his neck back over his shoulder to lick at his tongue. It's sweet and wonderful and Seijuurou can see himself easily getting used to it.

Then somewhere in the midst of all their fucking, Makoto whispers a barely audible, “I'm such a huge fan,” and Seijuurou can't even begin to glean anything from it, other than it's unexpected and hot and just makes _something_ in his mind snap cleanly in half. 

“Turn over.”

Seijuurou watches as Makoto thirstily complies, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs. He waits until the other man resorts to stroking himself for temporary pleasure's sake, his cock hard and throbbing in his own palm, before Seijuurou snaps his hips forward without warning. Makoto reels and cries out, so he does it again. And again and again, until the friction building between them becomes too much to bear and overtakes them both. 

Makoto comes first and Seijuurou's not too far behind him, remembering they're still on camera and to not flood the condom, instead spilling shamelessly over his partner's stomach. 

When they're done, they slump against the couch to catch their breath, the tiny beads of sweat on their broad backs makes them stick to the leather a bit but neither seem too pressed to care. 

Time passes. Seijuurou's mind is too fogged up with endorphins and lust and afterglow to even realize just how much of it actually passes, only becoming dimly aware of it when his eyes snap open to see Rei offering them each a towel and a cold bottle of water.

“That was great, you two!” Nagisa says, hopping down from his chair and clapping his hands together, his cheeks pinker than his eyes. “Sei-chan, I especially liked the nibbling—mm?”

Rei then whispers something in Nagisa's ear, to which Nagisa brightens and nods his head frantic and eager, before all but taking off with him. He stops just before the door to tell them, "We'll..be back in a bit. I'll leave the camera running. Sei-chan, Mako-chan, do whatever you want! Just make sure to turn off the camera once you're done," and then with a knowing smile and two thumbs up, he's gone.

And that's that. Did he even get the job? Will he be getting a call or an e-mail? Seijuurou doesn't really know. At this point, he can't care.

Head still pressing into the couch, he turns to look over at Makoto beside him. Without the camera or other prying eyes, he takes him all in, shamelessly: the dusky look in his eyes, the way his hair is matted to his head with sweat, the small pool of cum on his stomach.

"So," Seijuurou ventures moments later, once the door clicks shut and the directors' footsteps have faded down the hall somewhere. He breathes in deep, getting his second wind, and tries to shrug, nonchalantly. "...want to give it another go?"

Makoto's body is still flushed from their previous activities and goes redder, especially around the cheeks—something Seijuurou finds endearing—when he breathes out and smiles. "Absolutely."

The second time is even better than the first.

 

\--

 

Later that night, Nagisa leaves Seijuurou a voicemail, informing him that he did, in fact, get the job. The message ends with Nagisa saying he'll be contacting Seijuurou in a few days to arrange everything else for a release of the audition (which he and Rei absolutely loved) as a short PV and for paperwork. It's the best news he's heard in _weeks_. That is, until he reads an e-mail Makoto's sent him, thanking him for the experience and that he looks forward to his work with Rockhopper Studios.

Still coming down from his orgasmic high, and the disbelief that he was hired and that he'd even been anxious about it in the first place, Seijuurou googles Makoto—out of curiosity, of course—and discovers Nagisa wasn't stretching the truth: Makoto is quite prolific, fucks as much as he gets fucked, and has quite the following, evidenced by numerous fansites and popularity poll rankings.

His most recent work is a film called _Foreign Exxxchange_. Sadly, it's not even close to the worst groan-worthy porn title Seijuurou's ever heard. The film stars Makoto, billed solely as MT, and two others: TK, some tall redhead with the weirdest eyebrows Seijuurou's ever seen, and JK, a foreign-looking boy with two-tone hair. It's the latest smash success from Rockhopper Studios and it's up for dozens of awards. 

Feeling more than a bit snoopy, Seijuurou heads on over to PornHub, just to see what all the hype is about.

Who knows, it might be good research for whenever he has to work with Makoto again. Yeah.

Seijuurou barely remembers the characters' names or most of the story. All he can gather from just a few spliced video clips and stills is that it's something of a love triangle involving Makoto's character, a shy bookworm of a college student who shares a mutual look-but-don't-touch attraction with TK's athlete. A monkey wrench is thrown into the mix when Makoto's new roommate—JK's flirty exchange student—enters the picture.

The rest of the film's "plot" eludes him, all lost in a hazy blur of good-for-porn acting, Rei Ryugazaki's impressive cinematography, and one breathtaking final act where the characters' unresolved sexual tension culminates in the most intense threesome Seijuurou has ever seen. Even he can't deny it made him rub one out.

Before he knows it, he's hunting down torrents of Makoto's most well-known movies and spending the rest of the night downloading and watching them with his dick in his hand like he's a teenager locked in his room all over again. 

Well after his third orgasm—shortly around the time his marathon of the entire _Salaryman Mako-chan ♥_ series (it was the glasses, or maybe the suit, that did him in) ends—when his mind's dazed and his palm's sticky, Seijuurou wonders if Nagisa knew he was just the slightest bit gay all along.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.


End file.
